


Feather on the Blues

by orphan_account



Category: One Piece
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates, Original Character(s), Other, Sheep, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:58:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A storyteller plus pirates plus giant birds plus random adventures equals hilarity and fun. Follow Hoover as she goes on adventures and stuff. (Minor violence and language warnings)





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, first story. Sorry if it's terrible. Comment and leave notes so I will write more.

_**An island on the East Blue, 14 years before the Going Merry was built**_  
The day was warm for November, especially in the East Blue. The park was oddly empty for such weather. Perhaps it was the dark clouds on the horizon. The leaves seemed to shiver in anticipation, leaping from the trees and dancing to the ground on occasion. The cold cobble streets welcomed their company. Tall shops and houses stood guard over the empty roads, watching the delicate dance of the autumn weather.  
A tall, scrawny, five-year old girl was seated on a bench. She had a large pack beside her, obviously stuffed to capacity. She wore a tattered dress that hung limply from her frame. Her nut brown hair looked dull and lifeless. Her eyes, however, had a spark of intelligence and curiosity. She held a blue fruit in the palm of one hand. It was covered in a swirling pattern. She held it up to her mouth, opening it wide to accept the food.  
As she took the first bite, she gagged, then swallowed. She made a face, then took the next bite, then the next. Soon, only a stem remained. She sighed.  
She knew what the fruit was. A Devil Fruit. She was desperate though, and needed food more than the ability to swim. She stood, shouldering her pack as the first drops rained down. The empty streets welcomed her. The gutters were ready to accept the sky's offering. After a moment, a glimmer in the gutter caught her eye. She moved closer to it, curious. A small bag of coins was lying there, coins spilling out from its maw.  
The girl, who will henceforth be referred to as Hoover, scooped up the coins. She drooled at the thought of food, and what she could buy with the coins.

 

Evening found Hoover in a small diner, eating a hearty beef stew and a mug of frothy apple cider. The owner of the place was cleaning plates as she ate, wondering how long it'd been since she'd eaten anything. She was tall and all bones, eating like a starved wolf. After a while of eating, she finished her first bowl.  
"Excuse me, might I trouble you for another bowl," Hoover asked politely.  
"Sure, kid," said the owner. He poured the stew, getting more of the meat than he would normally try to get. As he handed her the bowl, she held out the rest of the small sack of coins. He frowned. "On the house," he said.  
"I can't accept this," she said quietly. "I don't want you to lose any money."  
"I won't. Can't have you all bones, and it's getting cold anyway. You're doing me a favor."  
"Thank you," she said gratefully. She quickly ate the next bowl, and finished off her mug. A comfortable silence settled over them.  
An explosion shattered this silence.  
“That’s her! Get her, get her! She’s the fugitive!” Marines flooded in, guns aimed at Hoover  
“What the hell is this? How’d they find me? What did I do to deserve this?” The last words out of Hoover’s mouth went unheard by all but the owner, who sighed.  
Hoover said a quick ‘bye’ to the barkeep, then ducked under a marine’s arm, running for the door. She slid under the marine standing in her path, quickly standing up and sprinting away at a breakneck speed.  
They say that there comes a time when you abandon all hope and do something reckless. In this case, Hoover stopped at a cliff edge. She backed up until she felt her heels against the edge and watched as marines surrounded her. Her face was cold, calculating.  
“Give up, you’re surrounded.”  
“Nope.” As she spoke, Hoover fell backwards, spreading her arms. She turned in the air. As the water edged closer, she thought ‘Too bad I can’t swim’. Soon she was so close she could see the seafoam. She took a deep breath.  
It was here that she screamed in pain. Her arms bent in strange ways, and her skin bubbled with strange… somethings. Her spine stretched and moved, her legs moving up her torso. Finally, blood erupted down her arms and spine, feathers bursting from her skin. The rest grew in through her pores.  
This all happened in the span of ten seconds. Her new wings caught her, snapping up. Then, the began to flap clumsily. Her feet, now vicious talons, clenched. Her torso was the size of a horse, with a eight foot wingspan to hold it. Her beak was lined with toothlike ridges. Her first flight was clumsy, awkwardly flapping to stay aloft. Her feathers were long, shifting about in her wings as she flew.  
After a moment off off-beat flapping, she got the hang of it, flapping her wings rhythmically, showing off muscles that shifted visibly under the bloodied feathers. Their surface matched her clothes, as though they’d become feathers.  
The marines had left once she’d fallen, so the one who dared look back screamed when he saw a bird bigger than himself, covered in blood, screaming to the world. Plus, he had heard Hoover’s pained screams, so he thought it had eaten her and was going after him next. Hoover swooped down like an angel of death and sunk her talons into him and several other marines, half-dragging them to their deaths. A few more times of this, and there were no more marines. Huh, imagine that.  
As she landed, her feathers retreated into her skin. Her clothes went from feathers to tattered fabric, and the wounds on her arms and back were now scars. She calmly walked back to the diner.  
“What was that? Why weren’t you all panicky and stuff? Does this happen THAT often?”  
“Yes, it does.”  
“Well, that sucks.”  
“Yep. These damn marines just won’t stop. Someone new comes in, and they accuse them of crimes.”  
“Oh. Well then” Hoover deadpanned.  
“So, I saw you jump. How’d ya make it?”  
Hoover was silent. The barkeep went back to cleaning the glass, knowing that she would only talk about it if she wanted. Hoover sighed.  
“What’s your opinion on devil fruits?” Hoover voiced her response as a tactful question.  
“Kept ya alive, kid. That’s what matters.”  
“I turned into a freakin’ BIRD! It HURT. A lot,” She said angrily.  
“But you’re alive.”  
“That I am. I’m gonna go. Bye.”  
The barkeep went quiet. As Hoover walked out, She spoke to him, back still turned. “I’ll be going now. Sorry for leaving the marine captain.”  
He looked at her, then spoke. “A roc.”  
“What?”  
“You turned into a roc. That’s the bird.”  
“Thanks. Bye.”  
“Take care, kid.”  
Hoover left at that, nodding. As she did, the barkeep thought about how oddly mature the little girl was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoover kind of joins the crew, and Nami is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so glad to finally post this!

While the new duo sailed away from the boat, Hoover strode out of the doctor’s office with a patch on her head and a sheep in her bag. She jumped into the air and shifted, flying to the marine base in a small form with a three foot wingspan. She had heard there was a prisoner there starving, and so was going to protect him from the sun because she knew scorching heat. Far too well, in fact.  
“Go away.”  
“Jackass, let me help you.”  
Hoover was sitting over the green-haired man, wings over his head. She glared at the marine base with her green eyes. They were jackasses, more so than the one below her wings. The sheep still remained undetected, sitting below her in her bag. She turned her glare to the wall around the courtyard and it softened as she saw a pink haired kid and a black haired kid peeking over the fence. Like a groundhog, a brown haired kid’s head poked its way up. Hoover watched in interest as the little girl clambered over the wall and brought some food to the green haired idiot. When Helmeppo appeared rudely, Hoover squawked at him.  
A rock came sailing at her head, and she scooped up her bag and flew away from the pole, screeching and flying like a bat out of hell.  
“What was with that bird?”  
Hoover sat on a nearby curb in human form, watching Luffy and Coby talk to the brown-haired girl. She watched the girl’s face light up, then she saw the girl delve into an explanation as to what had happened. Luffy looked ready to help.  
*Most of the rest of the arc occurs, but Hoover is watching.  
After they had defeated Morgan, and Coby had joined the Marines,Hoover flew over to the dinghy and landed on the mast. Zoro got up to shoo her away, but she pecked angrily at his hand, leaving a large bruise on it. Squawking triumphantly, she strutted across the mast and was left alone.  
She seemed to sigh in annoyance as Luffy got carried away by the giant bird, then she flew after him, leaving Zoro to do his thing. She tailed the bird, watching it with her sharp eyes. She shifted to a slightly bigger form so she could fly faster, leaving a trail of reddish-brown feathers in the sky. They fluttered to the sea like snow, leaving a type of trail.  
Then, Luffy freed himself.  
“Dammit. I wish I wasn’t surrounded by idiots,” she said as she began to dive toward the earth, angling her wings to catch the wind and push it outwards, nudging her forward. She tipped her left wing down and circled right as Luffy turned out to be fine. Tilting the back of her downward wing down and spiraling upward, she watched Luffy encounter a redhead. She did not like the redhead very much. She was reminded of a fox when she saw her, for the redhead was cunning. She heard, through the wind, the redhead’s name.  
Nami.

Hoover flew down, angling herself to fly at her fastest dive speed, 120 miles per hour. She landed with a sound like thunder, wings flaring. Her hybrid form was intimidating, like a looming angel of death.  
“Okay, so I want to know what’s going on,” Hoover said, her friendly, cheery voice bouncing agreeably form word to word. It harshly contrasted her sudden, intimidating appearance. Nami smiled a little bit, and quickly explained to the patient avian. Hoover smiled sunnily at her and said,”I’ll go with. Hoover, by the way.”  
“You don’t need to,” Nami said hurriedly. Hoover shifted to her full human form, and Nami screamed. Hoover cackled with a ‘Kekeke” and grinned.  
After Nami lead them to the house, Hoover sat politely on the floor beside the door, staying under the window. Nami took this chance to look at Hoover as she sat. She was tall, at 5’4”. Her nut brown hair and bright green eyes complimented each other and gave her an almost avian appearance with their luster. She wore rags, which only slightly subtracted from her regalness, but she held herself like she wore silk and jewels. Her long limbs were tanned, and her complexion was clear, save for a few stray freckles, like paint had been spattered across a tanned canvas. Her sunny smile was bright, and she looked ready to jump up and celebrate at any moment, should anything good happen.  
Nami wondered why the woman’s bag was shifting, until a small black sheep poked its head out of it. It uttered the strangest sound in Hoover’s direction; a cross between a dog’s bark and a sheep’s bleating. The woman beside it looked down, reached down and gently scratched at its ear. Hoover’s voice, Nami noticed, had a strong accent. She could only place some of it, finding some of many accents she knew of, as well as a few that she didn’t. Hoover’s voice was sweet and light, like a faerie's, and the sheep responded well to it.  
“Now, Cloud,” said Hoover sweetly. “Sit.” She pushed on the sheep’s rump as she said this. Obediently, it sat. Then, it bleated/barked. Nami was confused. Hoover was smiling. Luffy was oblivious. Then, a plan began to form in Nami’s mind.


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoover makes a new friend, I guess...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I made another chapter... I hope it isn't too bad. Please comment, rate and review so I know how good or bad it is. (I was so excited over one Kudo...) Sorry it's so short... School and stuff.

**Chapter 1.**

Hoover yawned as she stretched her wings, fatigue weighing them down. The sun rose over a curved rock, looking like it was rising from a bowl. Hoover stood, her talons clicking against the cool stone. She shifted, her feathers turning into tanned skin, wings turned into rough-skinned hands, claws turning into battered feet. She walked to the bowl, her emaciated frame moving lightly with barely a sound. 

She splashed water on her face, smiling as she looked out on the ancient mountains, clothed in fog and trees and dew. The occasional bird would wheel about in the sky, leaving trails of clingy mist in the sky. She lifted her Denden camera and took a photo,  looking at the beautiful color. Tucking the camera into her leather bag, she pulled on her aviator hat and goggles before she stood at the edge of her mountain camp, leaping into the land below. She watched the ground grow close, then curled into a ball.

When she uncurled, her wings caught the wind with a snap, pulling her into the sky as she beat them powerfully. She flew out over the mountains to the sea, where she flew away, never looking back.

Meanwhile, a certain pirate was napping in a barrel, having come from the dinghy that had been caught in a whirlpool.

Hoover’s tired eyes gleamed as she watched the sea pass below her. Far below, she saw a cruise ship. Nearby, a whirlpool spun. A pirate ship was close by, preparing to attack. She was interested in the entire scene, especially the barrel. After all, it could be apple cider. Yum.

Soon enough to keep her interest, the ship attacked. She perched on the pirate ship’s mast, watching from afar as the fat lady shouted. Her exhaustion showed as she sagged a bit as she settled.  Shortly after, she lost interest and flew west.

Two miles west from this scene, on a rocky island, a small black sheep is hopping about in some grass. Some puppies bounce around with it as their mother watches from afar. The sheep’s tail mimics the puppies’, moving so fast that it’s a blur. The black wool that coats its back is slightly muddy and looks hot, but it doesn’t seem to notice.

Two hours later, Hoover skidded to a stop on this island.

“I like this island. It’s rocky and stuff,” Hoover said in a dull voice. She had shadows under her eyes, and she stumbled across the rocks. Her winglike arms dragged on the ground, ruffling her feathers and mussing up her primaries.She collapsed on the ground, hitting her head on a pointed stone before blacking out.

A small black tuft of fluff poked its head around a boulder cautiously, watching. The creature had collapsed, and blood was pooling around it. The puppies hung back, but the sheep did not. He trotted closer and licked the creature’s face. It was, oddly enough, avian, but also human. Another experimental lick proved that it wouldn’t eat him. 

When the sheep began to turn around, the girl stirred. She was pale from blood loss. She smiled at the sheep and said ‘puppy’ in a weak voice. The sheep nervously edged closer, head down. 

‘I have to… what do I have to do? Is that blood? Where am I,’ thought Hoover, before the rapid string of questions confused her. She stood. Her pack fell to the ground. The sheep crawled inside. Hoover picked up the bag. 

Clumsily, she stumbled over to the edge of the island. Some stringy yarrow grew in the thin soil. Hoover picked a leaf and crushed it in her hand until it was a paste. She smeared it awkwardly on her wound to stop the bleeding and winced. Her pale hand quaked as she pressed it against the wound. Then, it was soft feathers, the tips messy with yarrow and dirt and fluff. She was shorter than her other form, with a six foot wingspan and smaller frame. On her left talon, a bag of coins was clipped to a worn leather cord.

Her wingbeats were unsteady, like she was too heavy for her own familiar weight. Her head was sore and aching. She flew to Shells Town for medical help, for it was close. Hoover scooped up her pack in her talons, momentarily falling before gaining altitude. The sheep waved a hoof from the bag, and the puppies howled at it as some kind of goodbye. Hoover, meanwhile, was smiling softly and wondering why.


End file.
